Harry Potter and the Goblet of Love

Harry half-heartedly nibbled at his breakfast, stirring the eggs around on his plate with his fork. Ron noticed his odd demeanor.

"You all right, mate?" he asked, waving his hand in front of Harry's face.

"Fine," Harry said flatly, not looking up from his plate.

Ron was unconvinced.

"Don't give me that," he said coldly. "You've been acting strangely for days now. Hermione and I are worried about you. You never talk to us anymore, especially Hermione. You're not having nightmares again are you?"

"No," Harry sighed heavily.

"You're isolating yourself from us again, Harry," Ron said. "I can sense it."

"Nothing is wrong with me, Ron!" Harry snapped, drawing the attention of several students around him.

Ron sighed.

"Fine, then. I won't bother you about it anymore. But if there is something wrong with you, you know you can talk to me or Hermione about it anytime you want."

With that, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and stood up.

"I'm going to go grab my stuff," he said to Harry. "See you in class."

"See ya," Harry replied dully.

Thirty seconds later, he was hurrying down the corridor toward the dungeons after narrowly avoiding contact with Hermione in the Great Hall. He wasn't sure he would be able to hold himself together around her at that current time. So, he decided he would wait outside Snape's classroom until time for Potions.

Consequently, he missed Dumbledore's announcement.

Harry settled himself down on the cold stone floor to wait for class to start. Despite the extreme fatigue he was feeling, he knew that he would have to pay attention in class today. If he failed one more Potions exam he would be kicked out of the N.E.W.T course for good. He only hoped that Snape didn't try and make it any more difficult for him.

Several minutes passed as Harry sat in silence. Eventually, he heard the footsteps and chatter of the rest of his classmates entering the dungeon. He stumbled to his feet and waited. The first to appear around the corner was Draco Malfoy.

Oh, great, Harry thought. Just what I need.

"Well, well, Potter," he chuckled. "Where's the rest of the Suck-Up Team?"

"Don't start with me, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "I'm not in the mood."

"Oooh, what's wrong, Potter?" Malfoy teased. "Got your knickers in a bunch?"

Harry was about to grab his wand from his pocket when a cold breath on his neck stopped him.

"Potter!" Professor Snape hissed. "No magic in the halls. Thirty points from Gryffindor! Now get inside, all of you!"

"Well he seems unusually grumpy today," he heard Hermione whisper in his ear.

Harry shivered as her sweet breath caressed his cheek. He quickly hurried away from her and took his usual seat at the back of the classroom. Thankfully, Ron sat between him and Hermione.

"I can't believe what these teachers come up with," Ron said, shaking his head. "I mean, what twit came up with that bloody idea?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked coldly, a confused look on his face.

"You mean you didn't hear?" he asked. "Weren't you at breakfast?"

"Well, only for a minute," Harry replied. "I left early."

"Oh," said Ron. "Well, they're doing this stupid soulmate search thing, where we're supposed to put our name in some goblet and it'll tell us who our perfect match is. The whole idea is bonkers."

Bonkers as it may be, the idea made Harry twinge. He didn't need to know who his soulmate was. There was only one girl who could be right for him, only one girl he could ever truly love. But he knew he was all wrong for her, nor was he good enough for her. He knew that Hermione deserved someone better, someone who was not constantly having strange nightmares, grappling with a dangerous wizard, and placing her in danger. No, he was not right for Hermione.

"Potter!" came the sharp tone of Professor Snape. "Are you going to pay attention or do you know how to concoct this potion already?"

"Sorry, Professor," Harry apologized, quickly retrieving his cauldron and reading the board. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," the Potion master hissed. "And another ten points from Gryffindor."

Several other Gryffindors shot the professor a scathing look, but they were quick to hide it so as to avoid losing more points for their house.

And so the day went on. The rest of Potions was fairly normal; Snape dropped his usual half a dozen rude remarks in Harry's direction as they brewed their Fluorescence Potion. Three hours later they were dismissed and they went off to an excruciatingly boring History of Magic. Professor Binns rambled on, as usual, about the Goblin Rebellions and everyone got their nap for the day. For the most part, Harry's day did not deviate from the norm; that is, until dinner.

Having almost forgotten his depression from earlier, Harry was chatting idly with Ron as they headed toward the Great Hall for dinner. Harry felt like he could eat a horse; he had never eaten breakfast and had avoided lunch as well. Now, however, he felt safe since Hermione had decided to stay in Gryffindor Tower and study.

"Typical," Ron had said. "How obsessive can you get?"

It wasn't until they reached the Entrance Hall that Harry's dismal mood quickly returned. A large crowd was gathered in the middle of the hall, though Harry could not tell what they had crowded around. Ron seemed unmoved by the crowd, almost as if he knew what was going on.

"What's all that about?" Harry inquired.

"I already told you," Ron replied. "It's that stupid matchmaker thing. They must be putting their names in. Come on, let's check it out."

Harry had no desire to take part in this, but Ron was already on his way over. He decided he'd go along with Ron for now. The two friends walked down the staircase toward the crowd and attempted to push their way through. Finally, they reached the center and could see a small line merging out of the mob opposite them. Harry could then see what they were crowded around. The Sorting Hat stool was positioned in front of them, with an unusual artifact upon it. It was a scarlet-colored goblet with golden roses emblazoned on it. A pinkish mist appeared to be brewing inside of it.

"What is that?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"The Goblet of Love," Ron replied.

Harry raised an eyebrow and turned back toward the center of attention. A nervous Neville Longbottom was approaching it, clutching a ruffled piece of parchment tightly.

"Move it along, Longbottom!" hissed a Slytherin in the line behind him. "I'd like to get there sometime before I die!"

Neville had always been very timid, but he seemed especially uptight about this situation. With shaking fingers he dropped the paper into the pink mist. It seemed to evaporate, with the smoke temporarily turning a darker red, and then returning to normal. Neville breathed a sigh, and then stood aside to let the next person place in their name.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said. "Let's put our names in. Just for the hell of it."

Harry shook his head.

"You do whatever you want Ron," he said. "But I wouldn't put my name in there for all the gold in Gringotts."

"Fine, then," said Ron, a little annoyed.

"Good," Harry replied. "See you at dinner."

Harry hurried on in to the Great Hall, leaving Ron behind him. Ron smirked to himself and pulled out two pieces of scrap parchment from his pocket. On one piece, he wrote his own name. On the other, he wrote Harry's.

"Well," he thought as he placed both pieces into the goblet. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Suddenly, lamb chops seemed to have become a fascination of Harry's, because he was looking at them every time Hermione came into the Great Hall. She sat down opposite him and began spooning small portions of food onto her plate.

"What a day," she sighed, scooping some mashed potatoes onto her plate. "First years seemed to get more and more rambunctious each day. How've you been, Harry?"

"All right, I guess," he mumbled, still concentrating on his plate.

She looked at him with concern, wondering why he was acting so strangely. If only he could have looked her in the eye at that moment, he would have seen that there was caring in them to a degree that went beyond platonic friendship. Instead, he kept staring at his food until Ron arrived.

"Hello, all," he said, sitting himself down beside Hermione. "Merlin, I'm glad we're finished with Snape for the week. That git gets to be more of a jerk every day. So, are you two up for Hogsmeade, this weekend? I heard Zonko's just got in some great new products."

"I'd rather battle Voldemort (Ron shuddered at the name) than go there tomorrow," Harry replied. "Valentine's Day? It would be a madhouse of love-dovey trash and whatnot. No thanks, count me out."

He didn't see Hermione's hurt look at his statement.

"Not in the holiday spirit, too much are we?" Ron laughed, and began piling a very large amount of food on his plate.

"Jeez, Ron," Harry said. "Are you afraid it's going to run away?"

"You never know," Ron said, pointing across the hall where Neville was chasing a blob of cranberry sauce past a table of cackling Slytherins.

"Honestly!" said Hermione, standing and moving over to rectify the situation.

Ron snickered.

"That girl wouldn't know a good joke if it bit her," he said. "Remind me why we hang out with her?"

Harry shook his head, even though he knew exactly why he hung out with her. The only issue was, did she feel the same way?